"...Huh?"

"Like, you did something outrageous and need us to clean up the mess, or a scary school senior shook you down for money and now you want revenge."

"It’s absolutely not like that!"

Hearing my examples, Jeong Seongbin flailed and shook his head hard.

Good. I can’t be in the same boat with someone plotting that kind of scary stuff.

Feeling lighter, I waited for Jeong Seongbin to speak first.

Before we met him, I’d warned that we should wait until Jeong Seongbin opened his mouth, so even Choi Jeho had kept quiet and was maintaining silence.

With the mouth of terror shut, my mind was a lot more at ease.

"I wanted to tell you this before you hyungs get the wrong idea."

For something he’d introduced so solemnly, Jeong Seongbin brought it up carefully.

"Uh, we’re going to debut in the same group. But the CEO asked me... what I’d think about being the leader."

So it’s proceeding according to the original flow.

In our present situation, where volatility is as big as Deputy Manager Nam’s mood, this was welcome news.

Pleased, I waited for the words that would follow, but Jeong Seongbin kept his head lowered and said nothing.

No way. That’s the whole point?

Knowing his personality, he wouldn’t call just the hyungs to have us congratulate his inauguration as leader.

I glanced to the side and found “Is that all you had to say?” written across Choi Jeho’s face.

Spark brats, you’d better thank me. If I hadn’t clamped Choi Jeho’s mouth shut beforehand, your seven-year term under a boss would have ended in disaster.

But if that really is the whole point, then the reason he called us is obvious.

With older members in the team, he feels awkward about taking the leader role himself.

There were a few people at Hanpyeong Industries who found it hard when a junior older than them became their superior.

The age gap you could half-ignore as long as you were peers often only hit home after a promotion.

Still... does it never occur to you that there’s no one to be leader except you?

I thought over Spark’s dazzling lineup.

Starting with the world’s top mouth-fighter, the one who causes conflict the moment he speaks, Choi Jeho.

Park Juu, who even in our own content speaks so little that fans keep a running tally if he manages five lines.

Ever-sunny flower-garden Lee Cheonghyeon.

And bright-eyed madman with the gleam in his eyes about everything, Kang Giyeon.

Not a single one of them looked like someone who could stand before the public and say, "Hello, we’re Spark! Please take care of us!"

It’s like having five employees in the whole company and all five only do hands-on work, so there’s no one to sign the approvals.

In a word, the combination is hopeless. That is, unless you have Jeong Seongbin.

"If we were picking a leader from among us, I also think you’re the most suitable."

I stated my view honestly. But his expression was still dark.

"With hyungs in the team, me taking the leader role just... doesn’t feel right."

"Were you always this hung up on seniority?"

Half a joke, half a serious question.

I’d already been bothered by how he was the only trainee using the most extreme honorifics.

If I could get agreement from Choi Jeho, I was going to introduce a casual-speech policy for the group as soon as possible.

After he finished speaking, I saw Jeong Seongbin’s shoulders tremble slightly. He must have been really stewing on this alone.

"If you’re feeling pressure about having to represent members who aren’t sociable, that I could understand. But if you’re just tiptoeing because of age, there’s no need at all."

"I don’t think the members are unsociable...!"

He waved his hands frantically.

What a kind kid. I had thought that a little.

"Then is your real reason actually age?"

"I think there’s a reason most teams have the oldest as leader. Compared to the hyungs, I’m lacking in things like command..."

I was surprised. I didn’t expect the widely praised, best-in-class leader from the forums, Jeong Seongbin, to be this timid.

If I remember right, the stories about his school days that circulated in the fandom were full of how he got along broadly with everyone—very social.

I guess if your trainee period drags on, your self-esteem inevitably sinks.

That... doesn’t feel great.

Unlike me, whose self-esteem was eroded by getting beaten down at Hanpyeong Industries, these kids aren’t even twenty yet—they’re just kids.

For this team, it seemed like restoring self-esteem had to come before debut. Except for Choi Jeho.

But separate from guarding their self-esteem, it would be a problem for us if he didn’t become leader.

Even putting aside my lowest-rung personality that hates standing out.

Based on years of monitoring experience, the Spark brats wouldn’t even be able to open their mouths anywhere without Jeong Seongbin.

For the sake of those who desperately scrape up their bias’s screen time, Spark needs Jeong Seongbin.

At times like this, the most effective way is to have him put into words why it has to be him.

"Setting aside everything else, Seongbin."

"Yes."

"Do you think there’s anyone in our team who could be leader besides you?"

He faltered at my words.

I knew this.

A kid who thinks as much as he does must have imagined at least twenty times what it would be like if someone other than himself became leader.

"Whether it’s Choi Jeho, who will fight you for real even if the opponent is the maknae, or me, who can’t tell a left turn from a right turn if you only explain it verbally—either of us becoming leader doesn’t sound like a good thing."

"Why are you dragging me into it when I was just sitting here?"

"Are you denying what I said right now?"

"Keep talking."

Even aside from personality, there were plenty of reasons he needed to be leader.

He was the one who led practice, and he was the one who looked after the trainees in the most nitty-gritty ways.

That’s not something you can explain away with “it’s just his nature.”

Willingly taking trouble for others doesn’t happen automatically just because you put on a hat.

I kindly laid out “When The Younger Ones Become Leader — Despair Edition.zip,” and then added:

"So you don’t have to feel sorry to us, or worry that the hyungs will be uncomfortable because the dongsaeng is the leader."

"Hyung..."

"The others will be fine since they’re your friends or younger, but if later on Choi Jeho won’t listen, tell me. I’ll have a huge fight in your place."

"Why do you assume I’m the only one who won’t listen? You could be the one to drive him up the wall."

"I’m the type who bows down flat to anyone with power, so that won’t happen."

Maybe he mistook my words for a joke, because only then did his expression loosen.

Seriously. I mean it.

Even though he nitpicked every little thing I said, Choi Jeho also stated his own view obliquely.

"To begin with, there isn’t really anyone other than Jeong Seongbin to be leader."

Sometimes, more than a hundred words, a single sentence from someone you didn’t think would say it hits harder.

Having cleared even the Choi Jeho hurdle, he finally let out a relieved smile.

If the role itself isn’t the burden, that’s a relief...

I thought we’d cleared the big mountain when we talked about rankings. I was complacent.

If his self-esteem didn’t keep rising even after overcoming ranking issues, that would be a problem.

All the more so if you look at the case of Kang Giyeon, who has already lost confidence and is struggling.

Watching him take the lead toward the practice room, I looked at the back of Jeong Seongbin and prayed that this wasn’t a side effect of me moving up the debut schedule, and that from here on nothing would happen.

But my prayer shattered in exactly three days.

Which is to say, it was smashed to pieces.

The incident occurred when, while receiving my phone from the manager, I happened to also pick up a nondisclosure agreement.

 [SYSTEM] ‘New Task’ has been assigned.

▷ Take a photo that includes the nondisclosure agreement

▷ Reward: EXP (5)

+

You could say I happened to be puzzled because this task was completely different in kind from everything so far.

Did someone play a prank on the document?

Until now, the system had never given me a task that would harm rather than help idol activities.

At first I wondered if the nondisclosure agreement had any poison-pill clauses. But there’s no way I would miss a few poison clauses.

It’s not the agreement itself—“a photo that includes the agreement” is what’s especially suspicious.

Judging by the description alone, it felt like the agreement was being used.

Even when I took a photo with the agreement dead center, the task-complete notice didn’t appear.

What the hell do you want.

I tried putting the agreement in the left corner, then in the right empty space, taking around twenty shots.

And then, when only the edge of the agreement was in frame and about three-quarters of the lounge door behind it filled the screen—

 [SYSTEM] ‘Task’ has been completed.

▷ Reward: EXP (5)

▷ Total EXP: 60

▷ Total Points: 0

+

With a flashy glow, the completion notice appeared.

I took the photo like crap, and it’s complete?

I opened the photo album and checked the last shot.

The focus had landed on the wrong thing, so you couldn’t even read the words “nondisclosure agreement.”

The focus was so off that the man and Jeong Seongbin visible beyond the glass lounge door were actually clearer.

...Huh?

I lifted my eyes from the phone screen and stared at the lounge in front of me.

There really was Jeong Seongbin standing inside the lounge. His face plainly tense.

The person sitting across from him was a face I knew.

It was Jang Junhu, the singer of the song I’d covered at that recent “guide recording experience.”

Were they close enough to meet separately like this?

Even as I felt doubt, my head already knew.

As long as one side is sitting there at ease, making the other stand while he snickers, you can throw out the assumption that they’re close.

As if to nail my assumption, Jang Junhu picked something up and tossed it toward where Jeong Seongbin stood.

This crazy bastard?

I immediately knocked on the lounge door and stepped in. Both their gazes snapped toward me.

"Seongbin, there you are?"

At my sudden appearance, both faces went stiff.

Looking straight at Jang Junhu, I greeted him like a green newbie who hadn’t realized a big senior was present.

"Jang ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Junhu sunbae-nim, you’re here too! Hello!"

"...Uh. Don’t think I’ve seen you around?"

"I’m Kim Iwol, I just came in as a trainee, sunbae-nim!"

It came out with the projection I used back in the days of getting disciplined in front of Deputy Manager Nam.

A glance at the floor showed a water bottle rolling with a little water still inside.

Fuck, what if it had hit the kid.

My fist clenched on its own. I forced down the primal anger and spoke.

"The manager is looking for Seongbin. If you were in the middle of something, should we wait outside? I’ll let the manager know first."

"No, it’s fine."

"Thank you!"

I flashed a clueless grin, bowed ninety degrees, then tugged on his arm.

If I was overreacting, great. But if Jang Junhu had been giving him grief, the plan was to separate him from here first.

"Wait."

Just as we were about to leave the lounge for now, Jang Junhu called us to a stop.

His gaze had landed on the phone in my hand.

"Trainees aren’t allowed to carry phones around, are they?"

He asked while sitting there at an angle.

I kept the friendliest smile I could manage and answered.

"I have circumstances, so I’m using it with the manager’s permission."

Then he crook his fingers at me.

"Bring it here."

At his words, the air froze in an instant.

My grip tightened around the phone.